


Whisper Love In The Heat Of War

by RadioactivePaws



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, I suck at tags, Mild Angst, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soulmates, The violence tag is for later chapters, Trans Lexa, it could probably be teen but i like to be safe, mature rating is mostly for violence and such later, tho its not like a main point in the story i just never write cis lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24918079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioactivePaws/pseuds/RadioactivePaws
Summary: After the massacre of those sent to Arkadia for peace, Clarke sides with Lexa. In her move of cementing her place as Wanheda, right hand to Heda, she has those who stand with the coalition safe but a war is inevitable.A take on season 3 and beyond. Most canon up until the massacre is still valid, somethings like the time frame and how the world is will be changed however.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 21
Kudos: 207





	1. The Fall

The field is still beyond the billows of smoke swirling into the air, a whisper of the pain and fear that polluted the earth not long ago. Clarke’s boots feel heavier than normal as she carefully maneuvers around the bodies, a quiet desperation sinking into her search for any life.

They’d already found Indra. She was heavily wounded but breathing, being tended to by a few that had been travelling with them to Arkadia. Clarke couldn’t bear to do it herself, not like this.

Not when her blood would feel like another ghost upon her hands.

Lexa was like stone behind her, one hand clenching the hilt of her sword as she looked at the slaughter around them. They both knew what this meant, what it stood for, but it was Lexa who made the first move to acknowledge it.

“Clarke.” Her voice was strong, Heda back in full swing, but it still carried that softness Clarke knew so well. “You said you would speak with them, that giving them the Ice Queen would prove our intentions for peace, but I’m not sure it will work anymore. My people will want blood for this, they will want justice.” Clarke turned in time to see Lexa’s jaw clench, her body shivering ever so slightly in her tension. “I want blood.”

A stuttered breath caught Clarke’s attention before she could reply. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she ran to see who it was, heart heavy in her chest as she saw the shallow breaths coming from a blood coated chest. She could see from the way he shuddered that his continued life was a curse more than a blessing. As he looked at her, she saw the recognition in his eyes. The way he saw her as a messenger of death and yet, he seemed to calm at the sight.

“Wan-Heda.” The word was stilted, in two parts as he spoke around mouthfuls of liquid. Clarke could tell he wouldn’t survive this, she could see the way his own blood was slowly drowning him.

“Shh, rest.” She kneeled beside him, placing one hand on his cheek. He relaxed into the touch and his pained breaths cemented her next decision. “Can you tell me your name?”

It took a moment, a thick cough escaping his lips as he tried to speak but eventually, he managed to get it out. “Daks.”

“You fought well, Daks.” She spoke gently but firmly as her free hand moved to grab the knife that had fallen by his hand. His eyes grew thankful for her mercy and she felt like she wanted the earth to swallow her whole. It took another moment to steady her hand, to center herself. “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

The words were quiet, reverent, as she slid the blade into his throat. He seized for one awful breath and then fell still, a small smile touching his lips.

Clarke was taken off balance with the pain this caused, the intensity with which she’d already claimed these people as her own washing over her like a wave of knives. These people were hers, she was Wanheda and she was part of the coalition. This couldn’t stand, she knew it couldn’t. Just as she knew that she couldn’t stand with Arkadia.

They weren’t her people. Those who wished for peace, who wanted to be part of Skaikru, they were hers.

Lexa’s hand fell heavy to her shoulder, gentle even in her need for answers. “Clarke?”

That touch was a reminder, of who she was now and who she stood with. A sudden and deep vicious need for justice, a rage at how all she’d done for her people being spit back into her face, hit her in one instant. A moment where she accepted her place, where she was resigned to knowing that the war wasn’t over.

“This will not stand.” Her voice was harsh, an intensity of her own that she’d found to mirror the way Lexa had a specific voice as Heda. “Let me get the word to the camp, to allow those who stand with the coalition to escape Arkadia before we make a stand to let them know what they’ve done will not be allowed to go by without retaliation.”

As she stood, Clarke took in the pride that Lexa looked at her with, that deep affection that seemed ever present.

“The clans will be pleased with your choice, Clarke.” The hidden message there, the joy which Lexa felt at Clarke choosing their combined people was just as loud to them both.

“I’ll be fast. If I can reach Octavia and Raven to get them out, then they can work with the others inside who don’t want this.” Clarke followed Lexa back to their horses, mounting hers and taking the blade that was handed to her for protection. “Tell the coalition that Skaikru did not do this. They are part of the coalition still and will be rescued from Arkadia to come back to their home within Polis and beyond. Those within Arkadia who have done this are not my people and are not held within the coalition. This is a new mountain and I’m treating it as such.”

Those travelling with them seemed surprised at her intensity but Clarke could see the way they relaxed slightly, how they took in the sight of the real Wanheda. Of how Clarke was finally stepping into the full reality of her title.

Lexa nodded, a tiny smile touching her face as she linked arms with Clarke for a moment.

“Be safe and fast. I need my right hand to stay alive in these dark times and that means you being there for our planning.” It was a message to those around them that Heda trusted Clarke still but also something for Clarke herself. A reminder, a whisper of what Lexa really wanted.

With a slight nod, Clarke took off towards Arkadia. The smell of blood and smoke was still thick around her even as she broke past the valley. It seemed to cling to her skin, sending waves of revulsion through her every time she pictured the dead. She couldn’t believe how thoroughly and how intensely Arkadia had ruined the peace. A slaughter is the worst way they could have sent a message and yet, it’s what they did so easily.

Before her anger could consume her, the sound of extra hooves hitting the ground alerted her to someone coming up along her side.

“Clarke!” Octavia burst through the brush, pressing hard to keep pace. Taking in the worn look on her face, Clarke nodded to a clearing nearby and led the horses in that direction. Once they were alone and everything grew quiet, Octavia leaned in closer to speak quietly. “DId you see it?”

“I just came from the field. It’s a massacre.” At Octavia’s pained look, Clarke reached over and settled a hand on her shoulder. “Indra survived. We found her and she’s being taken back to Polis to be healed.” 

Octavia relaxed slightly, taking a deep breath before she steeled herself. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not letting it go.” Clarke could feel her muscles tightening, her rage and grief lingering hot within her. “I can’t keep protecting people who throw all of the things I do for them back in my face. We were bringing them peace, the queen of Azgeda dead to show that we brought those who were wronged retribution. Nia is dead, Roan is the king, and those people were here to protect everyone until this was finished.” Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, frustration mounting with every word. “I’m standing with Lexa. The coalition will want blood for this, Lexa wants blood for this. Fuck, I want blood for this.”

That startled her slightly, the realization of just how much she wanted grounder justice settling in her gut. The title she’d been given whispered in her mind once again and Clarke steeled her face as she looked into Octavia’s eyes.

“I’m going to Arkadia to get those who stand with the coalition out. We are still the thirteenth clan, Saikru is still safe, but those who stand with Arkadia will be going to war.”

Octavia seemed to be analyzing Clarke, her eyes searching her face until she seemed to find what she needed. Her own resolve seemed to settle in as she nodded, giving Clarke her arm to link together after a moment.

“I’m with you. I hate what they’re doing, they think they’re doing the right thing but everything that’s been happening is just like when we first got here. Impulsive, reckless, and fueled by emotions we were suddenly allowed to have.” Octavia chuckled slightly, eyes haunted for a breath as the memory of their first few weeks returned to them both. “We learned. We survived. They can’t seem to get their heads out of space.”

“I’m happy to hear that because my plan sort of relies on you helping me.” Clarke smiled slightly, heart warming as Octavia seemed to puff up at that. “I’ll explain when we have everyone together. I need you, Lincoln, and Raven for this to work just right but the more in on the plan the better.” 

“Let’s go then. The hole in the back fence is still there so we can sneak into Raven’s work area pretty easy.”

Clarke felt some of the weight on her shoulders lift with Octavia’s easy acceptance. She expected worse, expected a fight and she can see the fire in Octavia’s eyes that says they will be having words later, but for now she takes comfort in the support of her friend.

They pressed forward, riding wide to make sure no one witnessed them rounding the camp to reach the broken fence. They separated after slipping through, Octavia going to find Lincoln while Clarke carefully made her way to where she hoped she would find Raven. Luck was on her side as she slid into the room and noticed that Raven was right where she wanted, alone.

“Raven?” Clarke kept her voice low, quiet as possible in hopes of not startling the other girl too badly. It didn’t help much as Raven jumped, nearly losing her balance as she turned to face her.

“Clarke!” A mix of emotions flashed across her face before settling into a worried curiosity that had Clarke wondering just how bad she looked. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Shh,” Clarke stepped closer to Raven, relaxing slightly when she felt a comforting hand come to rest on her shoulder. “I’ll explain when Octavia gets here with Lincoln. I need your help, all of you.”

Raven nodded slowly, letting Clarke change the subject to her work. Clarke tried to ignore the way Raven favored her leg, tried to ignore the frustration she could see set in the lines of Raven’s face anytime she went a little off balance.

When Octavia finally returned with Lincoln in tow, Clarke sat them down and explained what was happening. She tried to gauge their reactions, watching their faces as she stated she wouldn’t help them all anymore. That she was only standing with those who want peace and the coalition.

“So what’s the plan?’ Octavia’s voice was neutral, her eyes bouncing between Lincoln and Raven as well.

“We get the word around, carefully and quietly. Anyone who wants to stay will just try to stop it if they find out so this had to be as undercover as possible. Then we get them out.” She smiled slightly as she nodded to Octavia. “Do you remember the night everyone got fucked up because we ate those nuts?”

She can see the way it clicks in Octavia’s mind a moment later, a rough laugh escaping her as she nodded. “Of course.”

“We gather as many as we can and dose the food. Those who are leaving don’t eat outside of the rations they bring with them. While Pike’s men are distracted, we dress half the people like guards and walk them out the front door while the other half smuggle supplies out the hole in the fence. Octavia takes one group while Lincoln takes the other and you guys meet in the middle. I have a route planned that will help cover your tracks but that, Raven, is where I need your help.”

She could see Lincoln nodding along with her plan as she spoke, his agreement basically secured with the actions of those in Arkadia and the fact that Octavia was already in. Raven was harder to read, however, and Clarke was tense until she let out a breath and waved her hand in a signal to continue. 

“I need you to find a way to lock the gates. I want everyone in Arkadia on lockdown for as long as we can. If we buy enough time then any search parties won’t be able to find any tracks. I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re headed for Polis but they won’t be able to prove it.”

“I’ll get Monty in on it with me.” Clarke was a little surprised at that but Raven just shrugged. “He’s a little lost right now but he won’t want this. I’ll talk to him and he can help get the food ready too.”

Clarke just nodded, breathing out slowly as she took in the strength the three before her provided. They would help, they would stand with her, and she would have her people with her, the ones who are really hers.

“Alright. I can’t stay, I need to get back to Polis to help Lexa with the leaders of the clans. They won’t be ready to just trust me, especially if I take my time in returning.” Turning for a moment, Clarke grabbed Octavia’s hand and tugged on it as she moved to the side. “Give us a moment.”

When they were away from the others and Octavia looked suitably annoyed, Clarke straightened her spine and pointed to her face. 

“I need a war mask. Lexa has hers, one for things like this and one for ceremonies. I have mine for ceremonies but I don’t have a mask for this, a paint for Wanheda.” Octavia nodded slowly and Clarke grinned a little. “Help me.”

Octavia did just that. They searched for some paint while Clarke left all her pieces that still belonged to the Ark behind. As Octavia gently ran the black across her skin, Clarke could feel her hesitations dissolve. She may not have liked the commander of death before, it was a name like ash on her tongue. It reminded her of the lives she’d taken, of the horror she’d witnessed, and of all the blood staining her hands. Yet as Octavia gave her the mark and gave her a paint that showed the strength behind the name, she found herself donning the title like armor.

When a mirror was turned her way, Clarke couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped at Octavia’s boldness. The outline of her skull was painted around her eyes, curving down her cheekbones where it stopped on the left side but dipped lower into sharpened teeth on the right.

Wanheda had a face.

Clarke clasped arms with Octavia and Lincoln before she gave Raven a quick hug, their goodbyes stilted and nervous. She believed in them, believed in the plan, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The plan was to give them a week. Seven days to get word out, go through with the escape, and make their way to Polis. It’s a three day walk to Polis with a good pace, four or five days at least with a slower pace, so Clarke knew the rush would make it more dangerous. The need for them to get this done quickly was an intense one and she just hoped it went well.

As she rode back into the trees, feeling the weight of her past leaving her shoulders with each hour that passed, Clarke let her rage fester beneath her ribs. She let it settle there, hot and vibrant, to let it fuel her in the days to come. She knew the council would be difficult, knew that her own people would be difficult even if they came to Polis, but she couldn’t stop.

She’d take it all onto herself and hold it until her legs broke beneath her.

Clarke made it back in a day and a half. Her body hurt, her eyes sore with lack of sleep. She’d only stopped long enough to take a short nap and let her horse rest before pressing on once more. It was late when she arrived, night settling into the city as she got her horse to the stables before walking the quiet streets to the tower she had come to call home.

It all seemed so fast, the way she fell into grounder culture and how easily she found herself wanting to call Polis her own. The way she wanted to be near Lexa, even when her mind screamed at her for it. How she didn’t hate her at all, even when she wanted to. There wasn’t much to hate, not when Clarke understood. Not when she knew she would have done the same. Not when, even in the darkness surrounding them, Lexa was the one thing healing Clarke’s scarred heart.

As she reached the floor where their rooms were, Clarke hesitated. Her own door was just down the hall from Lexa’s, so close yet so far away. It had been too little distance in the beginning but now it felt like a mile. With a deep breath of resolve, Clarke made her way to Lexa’s door and gently knocked to see if she was in.

There was a sudden shaky gasp behind the door, one that spoke of tears and despair. It took another moment for any movement to register to Clarke but then the door was opened and Lexa was looking at her with reddened eyes. She tried to act like nothing was wrong, standing tall even in her night clothes.

“Clarke.” Just her name but it said everything Lexa needed in the moment. It was breathy, soft, and so full of emotion Clarke thought she may drown.

“Hi.” Clarke carefully walked forward, pressing Lexa back into her room so she could close the door behind them. She watched as the cracks formed around the mask, watched as Lexa crumbled before her as they stood alone. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, her eyes wildly moving across Clarke as if she were looking for any injuries. “I’m okay, Lexa.”

“I’m glad.” There was a thick tremble in her voice as she nodded. She was a foundation of broken stones and as Clarke reached forward to take her hand, they all crashed down at once. Lexa’s knees trembled with the force of her sudden sobs, silent as they were. Clarke moved forward quickly, catching her before she could lose herself completely.

She led her over to the bed, lifting Lexa onto the furs as she used her sleeves to wipe away the tears as they fell.

They didn’t speak for a long while, just staying there as they were. The release seemed to do Lexa good, exhaustion settling into her shoulders even as her face lost the traces of pain Clarke had witnessed. When Lexa seemed to calm enough, Clarke helped her lay down before removing her boots to do the same.

Clarke needed the comfort of Lexa’s presence just as much as Lexa seemed to need hers.

They didn’t touch beyond their hands finding one another to link together but the space between them was warm, a needed space for their broken bodies to find solace. It wasn’t until Clarke was nearly asleep that Lexa spoke again, though it was quiet enough that Clarke almost missed her words.

“Mochof, Klark.” 

“For what?”

“Returning.” The implications settled heavily in the air with that one word and Clarke’s heart felt heavy in her chest. Thank you for not leaving me. Thank you for not changing your mind. Thank you for staying alive.

“Why were you crying, Lexa?” Clarke watched her take in a shaky breath, the hand not wrapped around her own moving to wipe her cheeks.

“We had peace and now I find myself within a war once again. I do not want my people to suffer, I do not want to watch more of them die, and yet I will have to do so.” Lexa turned her head towards Clarke, suddenly looking so young and so small. “I cannot break outside. I must be strong and I cannot show weakness to those I protect but sometimes I cannot hold in the need to grieve for those I’ve lost.”

“It’s okay to cry,” Clarke brushed the hair away from Lexa’s face and sighed, moving just a little closer. “Grieve tonight, feel it all, and tomorrow, we’ll be the leaders we have to be.”

Lexa chuckled, squeezing Clarke’s hand as she nodded.

“When did you start giving me wisdom on how to lead.”

Clarke raised one brow as Lexa seemed to remember. The war tent, Clarke’s insistence and then that first kiss. That kiss that shifted so much. Their eyes met, an understanding sparking between them as Lexa softened, her eyes still damp with tears while Clarke’s warmed with an affection she couldn’t seem to hide.

“Get some rest. When I’m not so angry, I’ll be the one needing the wisdom but I can handle it tonight.” Clarke smiled but it was a fractured thing. She wouldn’t ask for help, wouldn’t admit that she was a body containing a graveyard, but she knew Lexa would know it all anyway.

Lexa’s smile was a whisper of a movement but it was there, something real as her joy and affection seeped through even in her mourning. 

“Wisdom comes in many forms, Clarke.” Her movements were slow as she pulled some of the furs up around Clarke, ever so carefully tucking her in as she took in the exhaustion settling into Clarke’s bones. 

Clarke just smiled, shaking her head slightly as if it would hide the blust that stained her cheeks at Lexa’s gesture. She watched her, watched as the tears dried on her skin and her breath became slow and steady.

Only then did Clarke feel tears on her own cheeks, her own grief peeking through the cracks of her own mask. The remains of the paint she’d had Octavia give her smudged down along her face as she trembled to keep from waking Lexa once more. Instead she pressed forward, closing the distance until she could press her forehead to Lexa’s shoulder.

The warmth of that touch soothed her, calmed her enough so that she could stop the river of tears threatening to continue. She could hold in her grief for another day, she could hide it within her anger. She could harness that, use her rage to show the council that she stood with the coalition.

Her body finally gave in as she pressed it all down. The last two days weighed heavily upon her. Clarke let out a shaky sigh, closing her eyes tight against the world around her. Tomorrow she would be strong. Tomorrow she would be who she needed to be. For now, though, she let Lexa’s presence and the steady movement of her chest lull her to sleep.


	2. Find Strength Through Tears

She knows it’s not real. It can’t be real but the pain didn’t lessen even with that knowledge.

The vision of her father standing before her, smiling and with his arm out like he’s waiting for a hug. He’s surrounded by trees and seems so comfortable there, like he’d always been on the ground, but she can see the lines along his skin. Her own mind conjuring up what it would look like if he had the grounder execution instead of being floated.

Clarke tried to look away but her eyes were brought to Anya, curled on the ground and bleeding as her hands clutched at her abdomen. As she tried to leave, the people she feels like she’d failed staring at her, more ghosts of her own making started to surround her.

Atom and Finn stood to the side, looking sad but nothing more than that. However those moving forward, those coming from the trees, were angry. The vision of the people from the mountain, blood slipping from their lips and their eyes crazed, pressed Clarke to try to run.

Hands clutched at her skin, nails tearing at her as she moved. She could feel her own tears running freely down her cheeks, a scream ripping from her throat when something grasped at her ankle and dragged her down.

It was all dark, pain and fear and guilt swirling around her in waves until her eyes shot open to the morning light. For a second, her chest was seized with panic and Clarke gasped as her hands frantically searched for her knife.

“Clarke!” The voice was insistent, the tone showing this wasn’t the first time her name had been said, and it was followed by warm hands gently cradling her face. Wild eyes moved forward, finally focusing on the worried face of Lexa. 

There was a moment of silence, just the sound of ragged breathing in the early morning, before Clarke bit her lip to hold in a sob that shook her whole body. Lexa seemed startled before she moved forward, pulling Clarke into her chest as she ran a soothing hand along her back. It took a few long minutes before sobs turned into quiet sniffling, Clarke’s chest heaving as she tried to calm herself down.

“Sorry.” She winced at the way her voice cracked. As she sat up fully, Clarke caught the way Lexa’s hands hesitated around her, as if she were watching to be sure Clarke wouldn’t fall again.

“Do not apologize for living your grief, Clarke. You allowed me to do so last night as I will give you your time this morning.” Lexa was calmer this morning, her face looked refreshed and that easy way of being that she seemed to adopt in Polis surrounded her. Her hand gently wiped away a few tears and Clarke groaned when Lexa’s fingers came back black from the paint still staining her skin.

“I should have washed that off before sleeping.”

“It is an interesting choice of design but it is one that fits your title.” Clarke chuckled at that and nodded.

“It should fit, I asked Octavia to choose it for me.”

Lexa chuckled at that, a soft smile lighting up her face as she continued to clear Clarke’s face gently with her hand.

“Go and wash up, Clarke. We have to meet with the council today.” Her smile faltered at that, her eyes slowly gaining that steele that Clarke connected with the commander. “I will help you reapply your paint before we go.”

“Oh, Lexa, I can do it.” Clarke could feel the blush on her cheeks when Lexa just softened and shook her head.

“Come back when you are finished getting ready. I have a gift for you as well.”

Before Clarke could question her, Lexa was up and moving. She grabbed a few things, clothing Clarke knew was for her to borrow for the morning, and then took Clarke’s hand just before she left the room.

“Do not let your ghosts haunt you in the light, Clarke. There is a time to confront them, to take in their loss, but there is also a time to just live. Destruction will come with the war and the actions done within it, do not allow it to kill the warmth and joy that life can bring..” A whisper of a smile lit up Lexa’s face before she let go and quietly closed her door.

Clarke stumbled back to her room, heart and mind swirling with Lexa’s touch as well as her words. Her own room felt empty compared to how she felt in the commander’s chambers but it still struck Clarke how easily she came to call this tower home. The room here felt like something to call her own more than anything had since her father’s execution.

As she turned to gather the things necessary to clean up, she caught sight of an already warmed bath waiting for her. Affection sparked deep in her chest when she could smell the lavender softly coming from the water. Lexa had done this, made sure that she would have a relaxing morning before they both had to don their armor. Before she had to start to plan a war against an unknown number of her own people.

The water felt like a rebirth against her skin. It felt like she was finally shedding the skin of her old life, leaving behind who she was before the drop ship and the events that led to the meeting with Lexa. By the time she had lost Anya and met with Lexa, Clarke had already begun to feel more like a grounder than a sky person. She didn’t show it as easily as Octavia but home never quite felt the same on the ship, it never felt like it was her own when the rest of Arkadia fell to Earth. It didn’t feel right in the mountain and Clarke knew that it went beyond knowing it was a trap.

It didn’t feel right because she knew she didn’t belong in a place like that.

As she dressed, Clarke stared at the bag sitting in the corner. It was small, barely held anything, but Roan had brought it to her after she’d been given the room. All it held were a few things she’d kept from the drop ship but now it seemed tainted in a way. She knew if she looked she would find a handful of bullets, a book she’d found while looking for art supplies and, the one that stung the most, an overshirt she’d found at the drop ship that was Bellamy’s. Octavia had worn it once before as a jacket so when Clarke found it there on her wandering through the trees, she’d stolen it to have a source of comfort.

Now everything within it brought out a sense of dread. It had been a reminder, a warmth as she travelled, but now she just wanted to burn it all.

So she did.

While she waited for her hair to dry, Clarke dug through the bag to bring out the bullets. With them off to the side, there wasn’t much to prevent her from destroying the rest. She pulled the dying coals that sat in a bowl beneath the bath to keep it warm and dropped one of the candles in the room onto them to get the heat started up again. As the air grew almost unbearably hot, Clarke dropped the whole bag onto it, staring without seeing as the fire caught quickly.

Her hands shook as she grabbed the bullets and tried to claw them apart, tears suddenly blurring her vision. She didn’t know why but her heart suddenly felt heavy, her entire being on edge like an injured animal. It didn’t do much beyond turn her hands red and leave raw patches along her fingers, but eventually Clarke calmed down enough to just throw the bullets to the side.

The fire still burned but Clarke couldn’t stand to see it anymore. She poured water over it until it died, breathing in the smoke for a moment as if to consume the soul of her past. It was gone, buried, but the grief still lingers deep in her gut.

Her mind jumped back to what Lexa said, to how her eyes flashed each time she saw Clarke, and it didn’t take long for her to reach the commander’s door once more.

Lexa waved her in, eyes tracing over the tear tracks Clarke realized she’d forgotten to remove. As she moved to sit on the couch, Clarke cleared her throat and waved at her face.

“I know you said you’d do my paint but do you think you could do my braids as well? I can’t seem to get my hands to stop shaking right now.” There was a hollowness to Clarke’s tone, the relaxation of her bath erased by the memories that haunted her room.

“Clarke?” Lexa moved closer, sliding her hands along Clarke’s jaw so she could cradle her face. “Klark.” Her name tinged with the heavier trigedasleng accent pulled Clarke’s focus up to Lexa’s eyes. “I will help you but I wish you would tell me what has you so pained while I do. Is that alright?”

She was being gentle but there was a firmness that spoke of Lexa’s need to be her rock, her need to keep Clarke steady. Slowly, Clarke nodded and closed her eyes to take in the comforting warmth that Lexa provided for a moment. 

“Okay.”

There was a slight relaxation to Lexa’s shoulders at the easy answer and she quickly gathered all she needed to get Clarke ready.

“Alright, when you are ready, Clarke.” She spoke softly as she stood behind the couch to begin winding braids similar to the ones Clarke wore at the summit.

“I feel like I’m drowning. Everything seemed like it was getting fixed and then the rush at the summit happened. Then, you fought Nia and won while protecting my people, and they spit back at that peace we brought with blood.” Clarke let out a shaky breath, clenching her hands atop her thighs as she tried to focus on the feel of Lexa at her back. “I was starting to feel like myself again being here. It’s not much and I have a while to go but I felt like me instead of just this mess who was just surviving from day to day. Now, though, now I have to lead my people once again through a war they began without thought. I was a part of it the first time, I was the problem but I learned and I changed. I just can’t understand why no one can do that too. Everything from before feels tainted, I feel like I have this evil thing curled up inside me under the grief and the guilt. Like maybe one day, I’ll be just like them. Just this cold, calculating thing that only cares for her own benefit.”

Clarke sighed as Lexa made an understanding sound behind her, her hands moving quickly but still soft as they finished their work with her hair in the quiet following Clarke’s admission. When she was done, Lexa moved to stand in front of Clarke, her hands settling on her shoulders so she could lean close.

“I need you to listen to me, Klark kom Skaikru, and listen well.” Lexa’s eyes held her own as Clarke swallowed thickly against the lump that began to settle. “You are strong because you are compassionate. You are not those that betray you, you will not become frozen like the space you fell from. I see how you are with your people and with mine, with our people, and you are always attentive and open. You are not a wizened leader who has years of war under her belt but you are a leader who has become a legend in her own way. Wanheda is not a scar against you, it is not to create a ghost story to go along with your victories, it is a title of great honor. For us, death is never the end and you have given people their release from the mountain that kept us from allowing our warriors to continue on beyond the loss of breath. This war is not your fault, just as being away from your people is not. You believed they would lead themselves well, and believed that you did not need to remain there to take on their burdens as your own while you dealt with the ones you already wore. They failed you. I can see the way you will change things for them, how you will fix it so this may never happen again, and I feel nothing but pride.”

Clarke could feel the way her tears fell freely down her cheeks but she did nothing to stop them. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Lexa, couldn’t break this spell the commander had weaved around them. 

“Lexa.” She swallowed, trying to find the words but she couldn’t seem to find any. Instead, she reached out to hold onto Lexa’s wrists as she continued.

“You are Clarke of the sky people, legendary Wanheda, and you will always be better than you have been led to believe. The only reason your people have survived this long has been thanks to you. You knew who to trust, what plans to use, and how to get your people out of the dark. Your people are used to trying to push their leader, trying to use their own voices as if they have the power, but it is you who holds it. They will follow you, I know they will because you will show them that you are made for this. I was not the only one born for greatness, Clarke. Your blood may be red but it sings with the night I have within my own.”

They sat there for a few long minutes, holding each other's gaze until Clarke’s tears stopped and Lexa had control over the ones that started to haze her own eyes. 

“What was it Octavia kept telling herself?” Lexa tilted her head at Clarke’s question, blinking at the sudden strength in her voice. “Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim. I think I need to remember that too.”

Clarke could feel something shift within her, Lexa’s words and Octavia’s reminder seeming to cement something that was fractured in her mind. She could do this, would do this, and she would not allow Arkadia to think that the ground would be the same as in space.

“I believe that would be a good idea, Clarke.” Lexa grinned and leaned back to begin applying her war paint, “When I am finished, would you apply mine for me?”

The question was light but it brought something forth in Clarke that felt a lot like love. She grabbed one of Lexa’s wrists to have her pause her movements, smiling at the wide eyed look she got in return.

“I’ll help you.” Clarke swiped her thumb slowly along Lexa’s skin, taking in the barely there tremor that ran through her at the touch. “Thank you. For this, for what you said, just for everything you’ve done to fix what was broken.”

“Of course, Clarke. I swore I would, didn’t I?” Lexa’s words stuttered as Clarke’s eyes flashed up to her own once more, an intensity in them that was wholly unexpected.

“I swear fealty to you, Leksa kom Trikru. As the commander and otherwise.” Clarke caught the way Lexa’s lip trembled before she got her emotions under control. She watched as Lexa took a deep breath, closing her eyes tight for a moment before she stole Clarke’s breath with the open affection that reflected there.

“Mochof, Klark.”

The rest of their time spent preparing for the meeting went by quickly, swaddled in a comfortable silence that neither wanted to break. Clarke quickly but carefully applied Lexa’s war paint and fixed her braids, taking in the trust Lexa placed in her to do such an important task.

As they went to leave, Lexa stopped her with a smile.

“Wait, one more thing.” Clarke watched her curiously as she spoke to the guard outside the door who left for a moment, only to return just as quickly with a jacket and pauldron. “Wanheda needs her own armor.”

Lexa moved around Clarke so quickly she barely had time to register what she’d said. When it did click in her mind, Clarke’s eyes widened as she looked at the long coat now sitting on her shoulders. It wasn’t as long as Lexa’s and was made out of a dyed leather. The arms were shredded along the outsides and there were tiny metal spikes pressed into the left shoulder. On the right, Lexa placed the pauldron. It settled on her much like Lexa’s did only this one was made out of metal and molded to resemble a skull. The sash attached was shorter than Lexa’s and a blue so deep she thought for a moment it may have also been black.

“There. Now you are ready for our war council.” Lexa stood in front of her, pride shining in her eyes even as her hands twisted in an unusual display of nerves. “Is it acceptable?”

“Lexa,” Clarke traced her fingers carefully over the skull on her shoulder, chuckling when she realized the teeth were made of those same tiny spikes. “I think this is the perfect outfit for Wanheda.” 

She watched as Lexa puffed up a little at the approval and it occurred to Clarke that she must have helped to design it. 

It took everything within her not to take Lexa’s hand as they walked to the meeting area.

It took even more to remain impassive while the council met.

Two hours had passed and nothing had been decided. Half the council seemed wary of her being present while the other half didn’t mind her being there, they just didn’t like the idea of Clarke not only running a clan but remaining in Polis as Lexa’s right hand.

The commander having a general was normal but the commander having someone next to her that was basically equal in power was unheard of.

Clarke could see the rage building in Lexa as the minutes ticked by. While she remained relaxed in her throne, listening to them silently as they threw accusations around, her eyes grew dark and her jaw clenched dangerously.

It was when the suggestion of having Clarke kept prisoner until they could decide if she had been a part of the massacre that Lexa snapped.

She shot up, hands slamming on the table so harshly it nearly tipped.

“Wanheda was within the city when the massacre happened. Unless you believe her to be able to be in multiple places at once, your ideas are nothing more than fodder for your own paranoia.” Silence descended in the room as the council members kept their eyes firmly on the table as Lexa spoke. “I will not stand for you all acting like squabbling children in this room. Not when a war must be won. Wanheda will remain as my right hand, she will help me lead our armies to victory and she will choose a general to run Skaikru in her stead as she remains in Polis. Those points are not up for discussion. What I was hoping to accomplish here today was the start of a plan and yet all you’ve done is talk is circles.”

Clarke watched the faces of those around her carefully. She wasn’t surprised that they didn’t take to the idea of her being so close to Heda but she didn’t expect the accusations being thrown her way. 

“We will reconvene in the morning. Take tonight to clear your minds of your idiotic ideas of betrayal from Wanheda and instead present me with possibilities of protection for my people.” With that, Lexa waived her hand to dismiss them all without another word. 

Nothing was said between them until the room was cleared, a heavy sigh escaping Lexa’s lips the moment they were alone.

“Well that could have gone better.” Clarke smiled at the soft laugh that Lexa gave at the remark.

“I have an idea to help with this.” Lexa settled her chin on her palm as she watched Clarke carefully. “If you were to become Trikru, they would trust you more. Wanheda is a legendary figure and having you as my right hand just supplies me with power. However, you belong to a clan that is not only full of outsiders but is a part of what sparked this new war. They cannot see past their own fears. If they could, they would see you are loyal to the coalition but all they can see is a possible assassin.”

“So I would stop being a part of Skaikru, the general I choose to be my proxy would become the real leader, and I would become trikru to stay as your right hand?”

“Yes. Though I would not stop you from helping your people. I know you will not leave them entirely, I would not stop you from having a bigger part in their leadership than the others will realize but you will not be their only leader.”

While the idea was mildly terrifying, something like relief hit Clarke as she realized she wouldn’t have to take on all of what her people did. She would be able to delegate in a way that worked, be able to make sure they wouldn’t keep fucking up while still keeping her sanity.

“Okay.” Lexa’s eyes darted to Clarke’s at the whisper, her next words gaining strength as she spoke. “I’ve felt more at home here than anywhere else in a long time. I had to learn how to live on the ground and they just can’t seem to follow that idea well so I think it may be a good idea to have me lead from afar.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Heda.” Clarke let herself feel hope, let her smile be genuine and bright. “Becoming Trikru means an easier way to ending this war and an easier peace once it is resolved. Plus, it would be nice to not be feared for that. My title can do the scaring well enough.” 

“We can tell them tomorrow then. I’m sure they’ll want it done quickly.” Lexa’s eyes were soft as she took Clarke in, a slight awe shining through as she seemed to realize everything that was happening. “I would also like to extend the offer to Octavia when she arrives as I’d like her to be your general. Not to lead, unless you wish it, but to be beside you in battle.”

“What about Lincoln?”

“He is aiding in moving those loyal to safety, which means he is protecting my people. When they arrive in Polis, he will learn that I’ve removed the title of traitor from his name. Lincoln is welcome back to his home.” 

“Thank you.” Clarke set her hand on Lexa’s, squeezing it for a moment. “So what do I need to do to become Trikru?”

“There is a ceremony where you will be asked to provide something. It is up to you what you choose, however with your current skills I would suggest doing a health tending or a hunt. A health tending in these ceremonies will require you to show you can keep warriors safe, you will be presented with men who have been recently wounded and asked to heal them as best you can. A hunt is simply that, you will go out in the morning and must return before the nights end with kill enough to feed a small village. Usually two deers worth of meat will suffice, though less is also welcomed if it is well butchered.”

“I could do either but I think with my name being death, I’ll go with the health tending. To show I can do more than just kill.” Lexa nodded her acceptance.

“At the end of the ceremony, you will be given a tattoo to show your acceptance into the clan. It must be something personal to you that also reflects the clan you belong to.” 

“Do all clan members have to do that?”

“If you are born into the clan, then it is not required. Most tend to get the tattoo of their choosing on the day of their first hunt, however. I received mine differently but I do have a representation of Trikru.” Clarke nodded, tracing one finger across the table as she tried to sketch a design in her mind.

“Alright. We should do it after Octavia and Lincoln get here so we can have her ceremony done at the same time.”

“Agreed. The council can be informed in the morning but the ceremony will wait until all are present. It would be wise to speak to your people and present them with their general before we do this as well.”

Clarke signed but nodded. “They’ll listen better before the shift, that’s for sure. I don’t think they’ll really understand the choice so it might be a bit of a fight.”

“You must be strong with them here, Clarke. If they question you or try to push too far, they will need to be dealt with so you do not seem weak to the rest of our people.” There was a thread of worry in Lexa’s voice, her brow furrowing as she looked for any hesitation in Clarke’s eyes.

“They don’t get to question me any more. If they don’t do what they’re told after we saved them yet again, then they can go and try to survive with the clanless.” Something dark flashed through Clarke at the idea, something between a sickly satisfaction and a disgust with herself. She knew it would need to be done but that didn't’ mean it wouldn’t cause conflict within her.

Lexa just nodded, allowing Clarke to take the lead on how to handle Skaikru. They stayed at the table, trading ideas and small plans until evening fell. Food was brought to them, effectively breaking their focus as the realization of just how long they’d been planning hit them.

When they eventually retired to their rooms, Clarke hesitated in the hall between the doors.

“Lexa?” She spoke before she could stop herself, faltering slightly when she caught the exhaustion lining the commander’s face.

“Yes, Clarke?”

“If you’ll be awake a while longer, could I spend some time in your room?” Anything to be away from the things that seemed to haunt her within her own room. Anything to be less afraid, less alone.

“Of course. I was planning to read before retiring, if you’d like to join me.” Lexa’s eyes were soft as she opened the door for Clarke to enter first. “You should remove your war paint first so you do not fall asleep in it once again.”

Laughter bubbled up before she could stop it, taking Clarke by surprise as she simply nodded her agreement. She cleaned her face quickly, placing her new armor carefully to the side with a sort of reverence. As she settled into one of Lexa’s chairs, a pile of parchment and charcoal on the table made her heart warm just as it had the first time she saw it. Lexa made sure to give her art supplies once she began to settle into the tower.

“You should work on your design, Clarke. It would be good to have it prepared early.” Lexa emerged from her washroom looking much smaller than before. Her armor and paint gone, only dressed in the loose clothing she wore to bed. After grabbing a book, she curled up against one arm of the couch, tucking in so comfortably it struck Clarke that she was the only one who got to see Lexa so vulnerable.

The realization sent her mind reeling. The trust Lexa had for her always sent a shock down her spine. 

With a slight nod, Clarke grabbed the materials she needed to begin, grateful when her hands stayed steady.

The next time Clarke looked at Lexa, the commander was asleep. Book still open in her hand and braids messily splayed across the back of the couch. That shock hit her once more with how open Lexa seemed, unarmed and sleeping in the open right in front of her. She looked so young like this, so unburdened, it made Clarke’s heart ache.

Before she could even think, the charcoal started to move across the page.


	3. A Weapon

“You wish for me to train you?”

When Clarke woke up that morning, she was determined to learn more about what it would mean to be Wanheda. She asked Lexa a bunch of questions as they prepared for the council meeting and along their walk there. While the meeting went on, she made a list in her head.

Number one was learning to fight like she belonged with Trikru. Clarke was beyond fine with leaving her guns behind but her skills with other weapons were rusty. After that, she needed to learn to hunt more like Lexa did. Learning the principles and laws of the ground to make sure her people were kept in line was also necessary.

It basically all boiled down to having Lexa train her as if she were a nightblood.

Once the council had accepted her plans to become Trikru, the meeting had stalled. Nothing could be done until Skaikru were safely placed within Polis and no one really knew how to reach Arkadia without being shot down other than Clarke.

The base plan became waiting for Octavia and Lincoln to return, train up a small group of guards for Clarke so they would know how to approach Arkadia, and then leave to announce the act of war within a week after Skaikru were within the city walls.

“Yes.” Clarke had proposed the idea to Lexa as soon as they were alone, needing to start as soon as possible. She refused to walk up to Arkadia’s gates without preparing herself for a fight. “I need to know how to use weapons so I can fight and hunt better. You’re the commander and you still go out on hunts to help sometimes. You know how to fight so you can be with your armies in battle. I need to be able to do those things too if I’m going to be your right hand or the people won’t accept me.”

Lexa nodded her acceptance, drumming her fingers against the table for a moment. Then she rifled through a few papers in front of her and slid them towards Clarke.

“These are the requests to be sent to our weaponsmiths for the war. The people have their own but we intend to provide some for Skaikru and new weapons for those who need them within the city. Choose what you would like and we will practice with ones we have for natblida practice until yours are finished. They will be custom ordered so you have weapons to match your title.”

“Like your swords?” Clarke glanced over the paper, taking in the numbers requested of each to give to the people. She felt affection warm within her as she saw the notes left by Lexa for the smiths, as well as a reminder for them to request any supplies they may need for their work to her specifically. Heda would take care of them all in this time.

“Yes. My original swords were a gift from Anya, the day I became her second to train until the conclave. After I was given the flame, the man who made them originally requested to improve upon them for me. I allowed him the honor and I will gift him this honor as well.” Lexa smiled, her fingers tracing along the carvings along the hilt of one sword. “He will make your weapon quickly but with extreme care.”

Clarke found what she’d been looking for and marked down for two more, chuckling at Lexa’s surprise when she slid the paper back.

“Two?” It was almost a relief that Lexa didn’t question her choice of weapon.

“You have two, I figured we could match.”

That brought out a soft chuckle from Lexa as she simply called for a guard and instructed him to have a messenger deliver the papers to the smith near the tower. When he left, Lexa turned to Clarke as she stood.

“Shall we begin?”

Those words rang in Clarke’s ears as they went down the tower and out into a training yard near the front gates. A small crowd gathered as they noticed that Heda and Wanheda were grabbing sparring weapons in broad daylight. Neither had changed, Lexa showing Clarke better stances and how to hold her new weapons while they both wore their respective war gear.

It proved to be a powerful sight. Heda twirling two swords gracefully in her hands while Wanheda clashed two war axes together, grinning as she seemed to find the weight of them easy to handle.

“Welcome. Today, Wanheda begins to train with our weapons. She has left the weapons of the sky behind and chooses to become one of our own!” Lexa’s voice was booming in the space around them, holding a pride and importance that had the crowd listening intently. A small cheer went up as they looked to Clarke and fully took in her appearance. “She is to become Trikru, will be by my side moving forward, and as such, she is training with me so she may stand with you on the field. Watch if you like, take lessons yourselves, but do not enter this training pit. Today, this one is ours.”

At that, a ripple of bows went through the surrounding people. Clarke worried they would regard her as a child, maybe look down upon her for not already knowing how to fight, but all she saw in the crowd were looks of support and a sort of proud acceptance. She was aware that many would support her stance near Lexa as a show of her strength being given to the commander but as she looked out at those settling in to watch the show, she began to realize that the people were warming up to her just for being her. 

The people of Polis love Lexa, they respected her but also held a deep care for their Heda. Clarke was surprised to see some of that respect being thrown her way outside of her being the untouchable Wanheda.

Lexa circled her, looking like a jungle cat with Clarke as her prey. There was a moment where their eyes met while Clarke got into a ready position, one where they shared a soft smile, before a battle cry rang out as Lexa pounced. 

They trained for hours. Clarke pushed her muscles until she could barely keep the axes held aloft while Lexa’s only show of tiring was the sweat on her skin.

“Enough. You’ve done well, Wanheda. Impressive for a first day handling those kinds of weapons.” Lexa bowed slightly to her and waited for Clarke to reciprocate before she sheathed her swords. “You may have your training grounds back for the evening. Thank you for allowing us the use.”

The crowd that still lingered cheered, many coming close to clasp arms with Lexa and to praise Clarke for her skills. It sent Clarke’s mind reeling, how these people were starting to bring her in. How she was starting to feel like she belonged with them more than those she’d first landed with. 

“Heda! Wanheda!” The sound of hoofbeats was sudden and loud as a guard rode close to them, pulling to a sudden stop as he realized the crowd. “Skaikru approach, they should be here soon.”

“Good. We should ride out to meet them.” Lexa pulled Clarke from the crowd, giving the people one last goodbye before they headed for the front gates. “They will not be staying here. I’ve changed my plans and as such, they have a bit farther to ride. We should meet them to lead them to their new temporary home.”

“Where are we taking them? I thought Polis was the safest option?”

“It can be, yes, but your request for training made me realize the sky people will need it as well. They must learn to hunt with bows and spears, how to fight without guns, and how to live without being cramped in that metal box. There is a small village behind Polis, one used for refugees during war to regain their strength before moving on to reclaimed territory or somewhere completely new. Skaikru can remain there until the war is over and they are able to reclaim their lands where they will have new knowledge to better survive.”

Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand as they made it to the stables, pulling her to a secluded corner so she could wrap her arms around the stunned commander’s waist.

“Thank you.” She spoke against Lexa’s shoulder, smiling when she finally felt her hug being reciprocated. “This will do them good and will get them used to someone else being in charge of them. Who will train them?”

“I sent word for volunteers when you stopped to wrap the cut on your arm.” Lexa’s fingers moved to trace over the cloth bandage haphazardly wrapped where her sword had caught Clarke off guard. She’d warned her not to remove the jacket, her armor would help while training, but Clarke had only half listened. With the arms rolled up, Lexa had managed to swipe at her forearm while in a back turn. It resulted in many curses and laughter. 

“How many agreed?”

“I am unsure. We shall see when we reach the gates, they were told to gather there once word of Skaikru’s approach made waves.” Gently, Lexa leaned back and smiled at Clarke, fixing a smudge in her war paint as she pulled away. “Shall we?”

When they reached the gates, Clarke was pleasantly surprised to see about twenty people waiting for them. She could see why they’d volunteered to help in this way when battle was a possibility soon. Many were older, a few heavily scarred or missing limbs. While they could probably still fight, Clarke knew Lexa would give those who didn’t need to carry any more scars other ways to help.

“Thank you all for agreeing to this. I will make sure Skaikru appreciate you all as much as I do, and if they do not, send them my way.” Clarke spoke clearly, with a quality that had the group bowing their heads as they each responded with, “Sha, Wanheda.”

“Mochof.” Lexa nodded her head to the group. “You will go ahead of us since you all know they way. Begin to set up camp when you arrive. I do not have a full number to give you nor do I have any idea of what the sky people will know so just prepare as much as you can before we meet up with you.”

At that, the volunteers all turned their horses and took off down the path they’d soon be following.

“Will they be keeping those horses? I’m surprised they were able to take so many.”

“No. After everyone is settled, I will send riders out to retrieve all but two or three horses. We will need them for battle.”

Clarke nodded and, after checking that they were clear, leaned forward against her horse to let her muscles relax. She felt rough, everything ached like her body was bruised, but she was happy with how the day had gone. The axes would paint a vicious picture of her and they gave her a way to get her aggression out in a fight.

“Next time, remind me to stretch more before we spar.” Worry flashed over Lexa’s face as she looked over Clarke before she calmed when Clarke chuckled. “I’m fine, I’ll just be sore for a while.”

“We will prepare better next time.” Lexa started to smile before the sound of chatter and hoofbeats drew her attention to the road. “Let’s meet them at the cross.”

They rode ahead quickly, wanting to meet the group before they met the split in the road. One went to Polis while the other led deeper into the trees, a more hidden path to where they’d be settling.

As they came over the ridge, Clarke watched her people move. She tried to make a count, to see how many had left to stay within the coalition, but it was hard to do when they all meandered around one another. There wasn’t much of an organized march, more of a group of people trying to act like they knew more than they did. It rubbed Clarke wrong, especially after marching with Lexa’s army at the mountain and watching how the people moved in and out of Polis.

As she watched them, she realized it reminded her of when they first arrived. When everyone acted wild and carefree, even as she tried her best to wrangle them together. She’d fucked up plenty then, had done a few things she wished she could change, but she had tried to do what she could to organize.

From where she stood, Clarke could see the aggravation on Octavia’s face. Obviously, this hadn’t been a walk in the park.

“Is that Clarke?” Abby’s voice was loud enough to cause a hush across the crowd as they all looked up and realized just who was waiting for them with the Commander. The shock and worry in her voice sent a strange unpleasant jolt through Clarke’s stomach but she shook it off, straightening her spine as she moved her horse forward.

“Hey everyone. A slight change of plans. We’re going to go a bit further so everyone can settle in better and start to learn some things that will be useful after everything is finished.” A few voices started to speak up but Clarke silenced them with a look as she shot a hand up to call for quiet. “Heda has been kind enough to give you all a village to move into until we have taken care of Arkadia. She has also moved volunteers ahead of us so you will have help with these changes.”

“Polis is still open to you all.” Lexa moved forward as well, giving Clarke a slight nod of approval. “However, it would not be an easy task to house you all within the city walls. The village isn’t far but with so many of you, it will take about another hour. When we arrive you may rest, find your balance, and then begin to heal.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Lexa turned her horse and began down the path, Clarke following immediately after when she saw a few people starting to speak out in question. They could talk and ask when everyone was settled. If things were spoken outside the gates, it would be seen as a slight against both Lexa and herself. A show of acceptance and appreciation needs to happen here, one that Clarke knows will absolutely be shot down if she tries to answer every single thing being thrown her way.

A few moments of silence passed before they caught the sound of harder hoofbeats, Octavia coming up to ride beside Clarke.

“You owe me for this. Getting all of these people organized while still keeping things quiet was a nightmare. Kane and your mom asked me so many questions, I thought they would pass out.” Octavia’s presence was a comfort for the moment, the younger warrior having done a perfect job. 

“I’ve already figured out what to give you for this, Octavia.” Clarke chuckled when her companion perked up, head tilted as she tried to get the information out just by looking at her. “For one, I’d like to make you my general. I’m fully taking on the title of Wanheda to be Lexa’s right hand, which means I need a general. One who will be my hand within Polis but who will also be able to balance helping with Skaikru, which I’ll be doing as well. I can't think of a better choice.”

Octavia’s horse jerked for a moment as she tightened her grasp on the reins as she processed what Clarke explained to her. She let out a breath, a slight laugh, before she reached out to grasp Clarke’s arm.

“I accept.”

“Good because that’s not all.” Clarke smirked and then nodded to Lexa.

“As Wanheda, Clarke will be taken into Trikru as one of our own. It will signify her complete loyalty to the coalition and to myself, which will only make her transition into my right hand much easier.” Lexa took a breath, letting the moment stretch until Clarke started to roll her eyes. “I would like to extend that offer to you as well. You have shown great progress, Oktavia kom Skaikru, and I believe taking on the mantle of Trikru will only solidify your purpose.”

“But what about,” Octavia looked torn, her eyes darting back and forth between them and Lincoln. “I can’t do this fully if he gets left behind, I need him with me.”

“I expected this, do not worry.” Lexa’s eyes softened at Octavia’s hesitation, a small smile flickering across her face for a moment. “Lincoln has proven he is loyal to the coalition by helping to move these people, even when he knew he would encounter hostility in his homelands. He has been pardoned and will be welcomed back into Trikru as a warrior under my command.”

“Mochof, Heda.” Octavia’s voice was soft but Clarke could see the excitement in her eyes. “Can I go tell him?”

“Sha. Ride ahead with him, he knows the way, and tell him as you do. You two can help the others with camp set up.” Some time away from the crowd would do Octavia good, even just a small amount. “Oh, and tell the others to keep the current pace when you do, I don’t want anyone getting too brave and ending up dead because they think they can match you two.”

With a slight bow, Octavia disappeared for a moment only to rush past them soon after with Lincoln hot on her tail. Clarke felt her heart warm when she heard Octavia’s free laughter ring through the trees.

“She’s meant to be here, isn’t she? She just fits in the trees, fits in with your people.”

“Yes.” Lexa’s gaze trailed over to Clarke, a deep warmth there that was reserved only for her. “But so do you.”

The last bit of the ride took them just under an hour with the slow speed the group moved and Clarke spent the whole time pointedly ignoring any rising voices sent her way. Most were questions about her attire, about why she was riding with Lexa and not the rest of them, and where they were going. All things they would know when they needed to know and Clarke was happy to make them wait for her answers.

When they neared the village, a horn was sounded to signify their arrival. Clarke watched as all the volunteers moved to stand along the road, a symbolic welcoming to Heda and Wanheda so that Skaikru would recognize whose orders they followed. 

As they entered the center of the main camp, they circled a fire that was already burning for them and watched as everyone started to filter in. Octavia moved to stand next to Clarke’s horse while Lincoln went next to Lexa’s, a subtle show of strength and loyalty.

“Welcome, Skaikru, to your home until we can get your land back for you. The people here have been setting up this camp for you to send the evening settling in so that tomorrow you may begin to learn how to make a home here.This place is temporary but it should still be made to fit your needs.” Lexa’s voice echoed slightly in the area around them and Clarke took that moment to look around.

While the main path led into this central camp site, there were small homes hidden within the trees and the brush. Buildings that would seem decrepit and unused from the outside looked as though they would provide comfortable shelters for anyone who spent some time cleaning them up. It was quaint, obviously a village made to be hidden within and to start a new as large patches of land around them were set up to begin growing food. 

“This village is a circle around this main camp. You’ll be safe here until we can fix what Pike started.” Clarke looked around her, already seeing the beginnings of frustration and anger. These people did not like being suddenly thrown into the woods but they may just dislike being led by someone they viewed as a child even more. “Kane, Raven, Octavia, Lincoln, Monty, and,” Clarke turned to look at Abby, “mom, if you all would come with Lexa and I so we can discuss a plan. The rest of you, start to settle in, we will bring you more information when we have it.”

A few shouts of disagreement went up but Clarke just shook her head as she led her horse down a side path and into one of the homes farthest from the fire. Lexa chuckled under her breath as they moved away from the crowd, nodding ever so slightly to Clarke.

“You are doing well, Wanheda.” Amusement flashed across her face but Clarke heard the deep pride that always seemed present when Lexa watched her be the leader to her people. One that never failed to make her heart skip in her chest.

The moment they were alone and dismounted, Abby rushed in front of Kane, her eyes darting over the paint on Clarke’s face.

“What is going on here?” Clarke could tell she wanted to ask more, to press for more, but her voice seemed to catch in her throat.

“There’s going to be some changes, mom, to make sure our people are kept safe. Pike really fucked things up for everyone.” Anger edged into her voice, fists clenching at her sides. “We were riding to give you all Nia’s body. The ice queen is dead and Azgeda has a new ruler, one who works with Lexa. Then we saw the field. I can’t protect murderers anymore, mom. Everything I’ve done, all the blood I’ve let stain my hands, just keeps getting thrown back at me. I won’t put up with it anymore, especially not while I’m standing in a higher position within Polis.”

“What position?” Kane spoke up before anyone else could, stepping forward as he placed what Clarke took to be a calming hand on Abby’s shoulder.

“My title of Wanheda is to be made a permanent standing. I’m Lexa’s right hand now. That means I’m going to be distantly running the thirteenth clan from Polis but in reality, I am the only person close to having the power that Lexa does. She is still the commander, she leads us all, but I have a power close to hers.” As she spoke, Octavia moved to her side and gave her a slight smile. “Octavia is to be my general. She’s going to be my inbetween for Arkadia and Polis once everything is settled. I’m going to name you two the leaders still but you cannot pass any type of laws or anything huge without it passing by me first. You will be the in person leaders but I am the commander of the thirteenth clan.”

Looking at the reactions around her, Clarke took in the support from Raven, who stood behind her mom. She knew that it was hard for Raven to trust Lexa, to even want to be near Polis, but she was still prepared to do that to see what Clarke would do. 

“But how will we-“

“Mom. I need you to trust this. If you question me, openly, where people can hear, it will only make things more difficult. I need a stand of support and loyalty behind me, especially in the beginning. Later, when we know we can be alone, I’ll explain more and you can ask me things, okay?”

There was a long moment of silence where Kane and Abby traded looks, a moment that sent Clarke’s heart racing in her throat, but it all relaxed when they both nodded.

“Fine. We can wait.”

Lexa’s hand moved to Clarke’s shoulder, squeezing it gently as she stepped forward to be next to her.

“Good. For tonight, rest and recover. Tell the people here that they will be safe, tell them that this is their home until we can give them back Arkadia. They will listen to you easier than me. Tomorrow, you can ride to Polis where we can all have a more direct talk.” Without waiting for an answer, Lexa moved forward and lept onto her horse. She waited for Clarke to say a quick goodbye but then they were off. 

“Would you like to race?”

Clarke blinked at the question, chuckling at the smirk on Lexa’s face. The relaxed stance of her shoulders showed that they were far enough from the village that Lexa felt comfortable to just be herself.

Narrowing her eyes, Clarke tightened her hold on the reins and nodded. “Lets go!l


End file.
